


abditory

by Mistyillusionsbeware



Category: NCT (Band), SuperM (Korea Band)
Genre: Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten-centric, Dissociation, Gen, I Wrote This While Listening to Mother Mother, Not Beta Read, Overworking, Slight Body Horror?, Song: Body (Mother Mother), The Author Regrets Nothing, To Be Edited, Voice Loss, not really but kinda, the tags wont cooperate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 20:13:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29764974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mistyillusionsbeware/pseuds/Mistyillusionsbeware
Summary: somewhere deep inside Ten knew what he was doing, he knew he had to stopbut he neither had the energy nor consciousness to give a fuck
Relationships: Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten & Everyone, Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten & Qian Kun, Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten & Suh Youngho | Johnny
Kudos: 19





	abditory

Ten was floating, beyond reality or return. 

He was floating through his days, through his memories, foggy and thoughts mushy, as if to be functioning on autopilot.

superM,wayV, everything seemed to be getting too much for him.

He didn't know how Mark managed. 

He was dizzy, a constant ring echoing through his ears, a concerning irritation lingering at the smallest sounds even as he joked with the others. 

The constant migraines burned through his skull. The frequent moments where he couldn't even tell if he was himself if this was his body. Moments where he felt like he was floating outside himself. 

And the sensitivity of it all, how when even slightly prodded for his dancing or being offbeat he would have to fight back tears or even sparks of anger.

The times where he would get vexed by the mere sight of one of his beloved members.

How sometimes just hearing Kuns motherly tone or the softened look on his face made him want to scream.

Kun was irritating. They all were, everyone ticked him off. He wanted to yell to scream to burst out in a childish fit of anger. 

He just wanted to be alone, he wanted to be left alone, he wanted it to be quiet.

But he can't, he can't burst out in tears or anger because that would be childish, and really what reason is there, for him to be angered by the others mere existence.

How would he explain that he hated the sight of them?

He loved them and he knew this, he would give everything for them but they annoyed him living in a dorm with 7 other people two cats, and a dog didn't leave time for privacy much less the silence he had grown to crave.

He was often thought of as the most caring, the most straightforward one, the one the others could go to for problems without shame. Ten never refusing to give them solutions to calm them with small jokes and his teasing nature. 

But now he hated it why couldn't they just leave him alone?

Why couldn't they just leave, stop talking to him, stop asking about how he's doing. Why can't they just leave him alone?

He didn't hate them he genuinely wanted to say he didn't if Sicheng or Yangyang ever crawled into bed beside him demanding him cuddles he'd still give them. If Kun ever cried on his shoulder he’d let him, if Lucas ever felt clingy or wanted to be the little spoon for once, again he’d do it. 

But these days it was just too much he didn't want to see them not just them but anyone. He just wanted to be alone he didn't hate them, he just hated everyone in general.

He just wanted to be left alone.

And he had never thought of himself as the most violent person. But sometimes the presence of the others or just a sound from the kitchen alerting him of their presence made him want to break things, to cause harm.

Not to them, never, he never wanted to hurt them.

But for himself? His surroundings? Definitely. 

He just wanted to be left alone, maybe a break from others, from work, from everything?

He needed breaks from being with them, listening to them, talking to them, being near them.

he needed one. 

But he was well aware he wouldn’t get one. 

  
And somewhere along the line, he found himself making himself breaks, distancing himself, skipping meals, saying he had eaten earlier so as to not have to interact with them for meals.

Just so he would not have to listen to them ask questions, talk about their day, or launch themselves over the table to grab a dish, to ask him to pass over something, fight over something stupid and of unimportance that he used to enjoy hearing them complain about.

Yeah, he'd rather not.

He found himself holed up in his room more often than not, not wanting to interact or in some cases staying up way too late into the night.

Staying up until five or six in the morning not caring if their schedules started at seven. Because with this he could be alone, it was silent in these hours, the only sounds being of his own footsteps as he padded out to the living room to write lyrics, read a book, or scroll through Twitter for the fans fanart or their ship edits because he’d find it oddly amusing how the fans would pick up on small interactions either way off the mark or surprisingly accurate he felt happy these moments, he felt content, these few hours felt good. 

It didn't matter if he hadn't slept for weeks, he felt content in these moments. He felt almost freed from his life a fever dream where he had no duties, no schedules it was almost as if there was no one else residing in the world even if just a few feet away lay the door to Sichengs room where the other dreamed away or perhaps not at all.   
He felt happy in these moments sometimes he'd pull all-nighters and feel absolutely dead through the rest of the day but he'd pull through, he'd fill himself half full of caffeine once or twice pumping himself up in Jaemin's special order which stained his tongue in the taste of rusted tires but it was alright. Right? 

And when he wasn’t in his room he would be dancing, sometimes not even conscious as he did so. Just letting his limbs move on their own to whatever song his playlist had landed on. Whether it was hip hop, contemporary, or jazz he'd just dance, trusting his body to do whatever it would like in order to move with the beat as his mind wandered. 

Sometimes he'd trip up, fall to the floor knees bracing against the wooden floor, harsh and painful only to get back up and continue. It went on for hours and hours and once he'd regain conscious he’d feel nothing but the sweat slipping down his own body, and his heavy breathing, the loud booming of the speakers blasting in the background to which his only response would be to gather his stuff and head back to greet his bandmates who would often be waiting for him with concerned gazes that he would wave off as he headed to the shower.

At the moment he couldn't comprehend the concerned glances of his bandmates and colleagues he passed by in the SM building while heading to studios or to yet another event set on his schedule. He couldn't see how the security guards seemed to look at him with caution or the staff always looked ready to catch him as if he was going to collapse, how the stylists would work silently eyebrows furrowed not making any comments as they adjusted his size chart or looked at him in pity and concern. 

He didn't notice how Baekhyun and Taeyong always looked at him with concerned gazes, they wanted to talk to him, but they hesitated (like they were afraid, afraid that he would shatter)

He didn't notice anything; it was as if he was blind to the world stuck in his own, his own reality, his own illusion. 

Did he know he had to stop? Did he know that what he was doing wasn’t okay?

Somewhere, somewhere deep inside he did. 

But he ignored it, locking it in some faraway corner, in a box containing what seemed to be his conscious and so he just went on not because he didn't care but because he couldn't find it in him to do so.

* * *

  
It wasn’t until a late night dance session with WayV he had snapped. He had absolutely lost it and he can't even remember why, but he knows it must have been hurtful. He had yelled until his throat felt like it was on fire, all while aware of his blurred vision and the barricade of tears dripping down his cheeks. 

He just barely remembers the words that had torn their way out of his lungs. “I hate you, I can't stand you, your so annoying, can you not just shut the fuck up!” and god it hurt it pulled at his heartstrings the disappointed look on Kun's face the shocked expressions of the others and the tears gathered in his eyes. He couldn't even remember who he was mad, what had ticked him off, maybe the whole group?   
He couldn't tell who he had directed his words at no matter how hard he tried. 

But the anger had clouded his thoughts, his vision all he remembers is breathing deeply his eyes the blurriest they’ve ever been, throat raw and tears cascading down his cheeks down his neck and into the collar of his pale blue hoodie. He remembers scanning them, eyes clouded before he marched off embarrassed but still having too much anger vibrating in his veins, the adrenaline throbbing he wanted to hit something to break something he wanted to scream, to cry. (wasent he already?) He couldn't even tell what he wanted, but it wasent good. And so instead of apologizing, facing what he had done, he ran over to one of the company's dance studios it was one out of its way not actually connected to the company building it was further out into the city which normally artists would use if the others were occupied or they needed a breather (like him). 

Pushing open the door he was greeted with the cold air from the inside it was already late autumn it was cold almost too cold especially when ten was dressed in only grey sweatpants and one of the loosest shirts he owned it was fucking freezing yet somehow he couldn't find it in him to acknowledge it. Despite the knowledge of his fingers turning numb, his tear streaked cheeks blotchy and frozen, and just how cold the metal doorknob is. 

He ignored all this.

Phone plugged into the stereo stepping across the wooden planks of the studio he felt his conscious start to slip as the aggressive tunes of the song, his song drilled through his ears melancholically ferocious straining out of the booming speakers like silk under your finger tips this was Ten's song. It was his the product of lyrics written into the wood of his desk in painstaking graphite that stood out dark and grey upon his pale white desk, littered in coffee rings and scratches, lyrics covering up its entirety taking over his phone data just as it took over his conscious as he finally let himself unwind letting his limbs free to pull against the knotting and soreness of his bones the ache in his muscles.

His body taking control as he let it do with him as it pleased, moving in a blur unfocused, and out of reality. His footsteps ricocheting loudly off the walls of the sound proof studio, as his body unconsciously traced through the countless steps he had learned since his first dance class to the ones he had learned from Sicheng what could've been a couple of months ago he ran through the steps roping them together. Contemporary, whaacking, hip hop, locking, krump. Anything his body had ingrained within itself and could rip out of its memory, he was dancing flying, his body beginning to heat up as thin threads of sweat gathered at his temple eyes unfocused and unaware. 

The song went on and on aggressively powerful, the strong steady strokes of the violin rippling through the air shadowed over by the aggressive strumming of an electric guitar somewhere between, it was loud and heavy yet melancholic the long notes of a piano hanging up n the air as the violin tore at its strings fast, short and aggressive as if taunting him followed by a wrist vibrato shrill and high unannounced and temptatious as if to tear through the air, the shrieks of an abandoned child, or the sobs of a widowed mother. 

It was chaotic, loud, a mess but it was his mess, it was his song, it was Ten's song the embodiment of his thoughts all balled up like a crumpled piece of paper packed up in a soulless song that felt emptier than his heart, aggressive it was the chaos of his thoughts. 

Yet at that moment if you had called out to him he wouldn't have been able to respond he was running on autopilot. As the shrill cries grew faster, and the strums of the guitar only grew louder his throat convulsed preparing for the song to speed up signaling the time for his body to once again act out of its own accord getting ready to tear itself apart. 

And soon enough the words spilled from his lips jumbled and wavering, merging wonderfully with the chaos of the music booming with it as his throat lurched in pain his lips bruised lyrics slipping out. 

**Run, run, run away till you can't anymore**

He sang out his bangs falling across his vision as he twisted at his torso arms pulled up above himself as he tipped his head back he was unaware he didn't know anything his body moved of its own accord as his vocal cords ripped itself apart

 **Run, run, run away cause there's so much to run from,**

His memory flashed to the look on the others faces before he left

**Don't stop dancing (please don't stop dancing),**

He heard himself (or was it himself) echoing he was trying to mimic the background vocals he realized long afterwards heavily breathing them out as if his lips weren't his own (he didn't think they were)

**keep going keep going**

And he did he kept dancing eyes looking yet not seeing of himself in the mirror as he felt his head roll over his shoulders his arms reaching out to something he couldn't see

**Keep running**

His voice seemed more breathy here, more desperate even as if begging him to stop contradictory to what it was saying itself.

**Keep dancing**

And here his voice seemed to crack he was dancing and he'd keep dancing. He felt the thought echoed in his head _I will, I will, I will_ and he did swinging his arms around landing himself in a midair twist and nearly stumbling on his feet before his knee hit the ground and his body made him face up once again searching for something he had yet to see.

 **Till you escape reality**

He had, he already had, he had long since done so, he had long since lost touch in what one could deem reality, he had long since lost sight of that. 

**Run, run, run away**

He was he already had he had run away from the others, his anger, the disappointment on Kun's face, the tears in Yangyang's eyes, he had already run away. How much further could he run?

 **Life is but a dream** **(Dance, dance, dance it away)**

It was a fever dream he neither remembered nor wanted to. He felt himself snap his wrist to hit his back before reaching it out in a sharp fluid motion hitting at the air, he heard the bones at his elbow crack, his body recoiling in surprise.

He rasped out drifting his hands over his eyes, he couldn't see (it's not like he ever could) the palms of his hands blocking his vision as his weight rested on his knees the point of his feet stretched away from him as he drew it in as if to draw a circle, a border defending himself from the world before grasping at the floor with choppy movements (he was escaping, running, it was messy, cowardly) and launching himself to his feet immediately propelling himself to land a sort of in air twirl desperately dancing, he was dancing, he was dancing it away.

**Keep running and running till you’ve got nothing to lose**

At this point he didn't think he did. he had pushed everyone away, why? Because he couldn't bear the sight of them, ridiculous he had nothing to lose not his career not his group at that moment it had somehow come to him perhaps he really did have nothing to lose (did he?)

**Keep running and running until you don't have a clue (until life seems no more)**

And he did, he did, he ran, he danced, perhaps at this point they meant the same thing to him. The same cowardly action everytime he screwed up yet again.

**Keep dancing keep dancing (please keep dancing)**

He almost found it in him to cry out the last part _pleasekeepdancingkeepdancingkeepdancing,_ please keep dancing because it was all he had left the only escape.

He had to keep dancing. 

**( you can't afford to stop)**

He couldn't, he couldn't afford to stop, he couldn't afford to have to head back to the dorms to face Kun staring at him from the doorframe waiting for his arrival way past bedtime eyes laced in the concern he didn't deserve.

**Keep dancing keep dancing (please keep dancing)**

_Hedidhedidhedid,_ he kept dancing despite the small meek conscious side of his brain telling him of the exhaustion in his body, how his arms felt as they might as well just fall out of their sockets, how his knees felt bruised as if ready to give out, how despite the heat coming off his body, the heat of his sweat warming up the room the air was still so cold, so so cold there must be a draft it softly supplied. But once again he ignored it, he didn't care 

**Dance until your arms are numb (and your heart is in pieces)**

His arms were numb beyond belief they ached till they went numb and heavy yet he still hit the air at the beats, swung them in a hazardous mess. He must've looked crazy, barely a freestyle, (it was painstakingly beautiful mark had later told him) and the weight of his chest further supplying the first theory. 

**Keep dancing keep dancing**

He did hedidhedidhedidhedid and he wouldn't stop.

**Keep running keep running**

He already had, He already had, so much so that if he stopped now he doesn't know where he’d wind up.

**(Because what else will be left of you if you don't)**

Nothing there was nothing (he didn't know and was too afraid to find out).

**Dance, dance until your limbs feel numb and you can't stand on your own two feet**

He barely could, he could feel the trembling of his knees, the scribled mess of the chaotic thoughts of his mind, the yells of his conscious to _stop,_ the unknowing corner of his head that remained an absolute pit of nothingness, and the larger thought that stood out telling him of his shortgivings, that he needed to _keep going._

**Dance, dance (because what else can you do)**

Nothing and he knew it, absolutely nothing he was a pitiful human unable to do anything but run to run run run to dance and keep dancing he was a pitiful coward, it was pathetic.

**Dance, dance till you lay motionless and your throat remains parched**

At this point, he could barely breathe his lungs heaving his breathing harsh and quick his throat raw and dry (has he drank any water since this morning) 

**Lungs raw and vocal cords ripped apart**

Yet somehow something propelled him to keep leaking out lyrics to his own pathetic song made of nothing but anger (at himself) disappointment (in himself) and loneliness (because he could no longer recognize himself).

**(because that's all you have left)**

It was these lyrics, this dance, the rough angry yet melancholically empty beat that was all he had left in his pathetic shell of a being.

**dance, dance till you can't stop**

He can't, he really can't, at this moment the conscious side of him seemed to be raising alarms, red flags. Because he couldn't stop he physically couldn't his body kept moving despite the heaviness in his bones, the shaking of his limbs, the bruising of his knees he _can't_ stop.

**Dance, dance till you can't be stopped**

He couldn't, he couldn't, he stumbled, yet as if planned his arm reached out latching itself onto the floor like a leech holding on for dear life as he twisted around the base of his wrist. It burned as he landed a sort of semi flip it burned as if he had stretched the skin of his wrist too far around the bone as if it had gone on any longer the skin would split in half. 

**Dance dance dance until you won't stop**

He wouldn't, he really wouldn't, he didn't want to. And despite the red flags neither did he find the need to and so he wouldn't, he wouldn't even with his voice now gasping out the lyrics, begging to stop as it tore itself apart.

**Just dance, dance till the only one you're running away from is yourself...**

He was running away from himself, his own thoughts, his own disappointments, his own actions, his own faults he was running away from himself, and with this he crashed, he crashed and burned.

Collapsing into a crumpled pile on the floor his voice giving out as it trailed off at the end of the last line. Everything burned, everything hurt, everything told him he needed to run but not like this.

Yet he had and there was no turning back now, there was nothing he could do for himself now. 

* * *

It must have been eight in the morning when Ten had finally dragged himself to the dorms “the others should be long gone” he remembers naively thinking as he made his way through the freezing cold breath fogging up before him white and crisp just as the electrocuting silence that stood before him as he eyed the door, simply standing before it as if contemplating going in.

He felt warm. Too warm actually, yet at the same time achingly cold, as if the chill of the late autumn air had ingrained itself in his very bones. 

Pushing open the door which was surprisingly unlocked he froze. Swinging open it revealed the rest of Nct occupying the living space just beyond the doorway. The sound causing them all to turn to look at him eyes wide (they were waiting for him to come back)

He recognized his hyung's of superM amidst the others, staring at him. He felt as if their eyes bored into him, eyes riddled in eye bags, dark and interrogative (what he couldn't see was the worry, the pity, the sympathy). 

As Baekhyun stepped forward, lips thin and eyes swimming in concern, Ten found himself stepping back, Turning as if to run before his wrist got caught in a much stronger grip to which he immediately responded, desperately trying to wrench the hand away from himself, eyes beginning to water and muscles straining under the effort  
( he would have screamed, yelled, kicked if he could have mustered up the strength to do even that). 

“Get away from me, leave me alone” he finally wrenched out eyes shedding glossy tears and lips trembling under the contact, it was strained and raspy, chopped up, broken and he could immediately feel everyone in the room freeze up. His voice was quiet, just barely there and so utterly broken. As if he was wheezing out each syllable with all the strength he had left (his body shaking under the effort). 

“Ten-” he looked up at the voice. It was Jhonny holding his wrist in an almost steely grip, caging him, preventing him from running. From running away, as he so desperately wanted. 

“leave, leave me alone. Let go off me, please-” he wheezed out weaker this time he could feel the tears flowing down his cheeks now (if he had been more aware of what was happening he would have been embarrassed, he couldn't break down in front of the dreamie's, it had already been a policy of his, ur supposed to be their pillar they shouldn't be put into a situation where they're forced to be yours. But here he was) 

His throat felt as if it was closing in on itself he could barely breathe through his choked out huffs his throat burned, it _burned_. 

It seemed that at each faulty attempt for air he tried to take only strained at it stretching, teasing, raking at the raw lining of his esophagus his vocal cords strained in protest because he couldn't breathe, oh god he couldn't breathe _hecouldntbreathehecouldntbreath._

He slowly sunk to his knees his hand moving from its place in trying to wrench Jhonny's arm off him, raking his neck squeezing at it _breathebreathebreathebreathebreathebreathebreathebreathebreathe_ why the fuck couldn't he breathe, he needed to breathe but he couldn't, he couldn't. He couldn't breathe. 

He could just barely make out the voices of the others from the muck of his hearing that was a scream. Renjun, Chenle? He hoped not he could gently think other voices pushing their way in. Previously he would have despised them told them to shut the fuck up, he can't stand the sound of another's voice but here he was too tired to care, too tired to give a fuck instead of telling them to shut up he simply tuned out until he couldn't hear anything, his already blurry eyesight turning dark, dimming as what he presumed to be his eye lids fluttered shut he could a thud of his head it wasn't hurtful just a feeling, a dull thud and he heard a scream so distant so muted he barely made it out.

* * *

Waking up Ten heard the whispers and shuffling of the others “he's awake”, that was Douyong. Cracking open his eyes bleary and unfocused he found the others crowded around him, he felt sluggish and unfocused maybe it was his body adjusting to the sudden rest or something.

“what happened” he croaked out, it was quiet and small but caused him to flinch, screwing his eyes shut at the painful tinge that hit the back of his throat, still noticeably raw and lips dry and cracked, Taeyong immediately coming to his side and adjusting his pillows and propping him up, he worked silently which confused Ten, in fact they were all painstakingly silent, it bothered him.

“I-” 

“ten is there something wrong” Kun spoke for the group cutting him off.

They knew, and Ten could slowly feel the panic rising

Except they always had even from the beginning. Lucas and Sicheng could tell how he wouldn't want to play games with them anymore, how he was pulling himself away from them.

Yangyang could tell how saddened he looked when he passed by the other door, glancing through the crack of the door only to see the other writing something, deep in thought or just staring at his ceiling for hours on end curled up in his blankets eyes unfocused and form hunched over.

And Kun, Kun desperately ached when he'd see Ten once again missing from the dinner table hunched up in his room. And Taeyong could always see right through Ten, he always had. He could see Ten's placid smile replacing his normal wide and unbashful smile radiating energy and confidence, he could tell something was wrong yet somehow he'd thought it would be fine and even though he worried he never approached the other to express his concerns and now the other lay before him in a hospital bed after passing out, iv in his wrist and a long report of overworking, strained and pulled muscles and a laryngeal inflammation, vocal cords far too strained and swollen for him to speak properly or hit any notes anytime soon. 

And worse of all they had seen their manager sending them the video, the security footage of Ten dancing it was one of the things that had caused them to gather to check up on him after he got back. 

Ten had always been an amazing dancer, the best among them, maybe even in this generation of idols, but this, this was pushing the limits. 

Fuck Taeyong didn't even know Ten was capable of dancing like that. 

He had danced with way too much desperation for it to mean nothing, it was desperate (a plea for help) the other had seemingly used every dance move Taeyong had seen him do since the moment he stepped foot into SM and more, he had danced aggressively not giving himself time to breathe lyrics tearing they're way out his throat painful and haunting the others. He had danced like a tsunami threatening to take over threatening to destroy Ten maybe even the entirety of Ncity from its very core. 

Ten had stormed through what Taeyong could tell was in no way choreographed. Ten had freestyled on a whim letting go of himself, his restraints ignoring the red flags, he had danced and danced locking, krump whacking seemingly anything he could pull from the corner of his mind and went with it. His body moving to the beat and footsteps echoing throughout the room and Jhonny had instantly said that was Ten's song Ten had made this song, he had arranged a song of that heat, thundering, demanding recognition and crying in apprehension and they had watched awed and then Ten began to sing.

  
And that's when they could tell it was going downhill, he wasent singing he was screaming, crying, yelling for help and he was tearing his voice apart for it. Taeil had visibly looked shocked and horrified hearing the notes fall from the other's lips “nononononononnonnono” he chanted an unending mantra because they knew by the way the other was gasping, crying out his voice weak and cracking even as he powered through, performing high notes Taeil wouldn't imagine doing in that position because the others vocal cords were long gone he had lost his voice and you could tell, fuck Ten could probably tell so why was he still crying out lyrics like his life depended on it?

And the lyrics the other had written them himself and although he didn't understand English as well as Jhonny or mark he could make out words and the pain imbedded in them. He could tell how rigid Yangyang had gone beside him, Mark practically shaking silent tears making his way down his cheeks as Jhonny simply stared still and in shock they were terrified. 

And of their superM hyung's they watched in horror, he could tell from how Taemin had grasped Kai's hand staring wide eyed horrified because they were their seniors, they knew how this would cost the other, better yet they knew what the other was doing but they had failed to stop it. 

It was beautiful. The dance, the lyrics, the song. But it was painful because they could only watch in horror as the other tore himself to shreds to perform it.

::::::

“I…There's nothing wrong I'm just a bit tired” Ten rasped out his voice barely over a whisper the strain in his voice, the pain in his eyes achingly visible in his shaking frame as he breathed out each syllable. 

“Ten..” Mark croaked “Ten, Ten ur not okay, you passed out, ur in the hospital. Please just talk to us, please” Ten laughed all of their eyes widening as he doubled over grasping at his throat in pain.

“That's the problem” he cried out.

“what?” Mark hesitantly asked

“I- I don't know why, I hate it” 

“hate what” Beakhyun slowly pressured appearing from the side concern lacing his stern voice  


“I don't hate you”

“Ten” Taeil softly called

“but everything so much, I don't wanna talk I'm tired I'm really tired I want time to myself, I can't stand it, everything is so stuffy I can't stand it I feel like i'm trapped or something, I can't stand it I-” 

“it's okay you don't have to talk anymore we understand you need to calm down-” Jhonny tried

“No, No you don't understand! let me talk!” he growled teeth gritting together withering in pain.

“I hate it, I love you, all of you, but I can't stand it I don't know what's wrong with me I just wanna be left alone or have free time, I don't like it here, I don't like it, I feel trapped and it's like I can't breath” He let in a shaky inhale Douyong gestured to the heart monitor causing Taeyong to put a hand on the others shoulder.

“it's okay we understand, okay? it's normal, it's okay for you to feel this way, I promise.” And with that the other practically threw himself onto the other's shoulder grimacing for the strain of his muscles before melting in, silent tears trailing down his face his hands crumpling the fabric of Taeyongs sweater his voice cracking as he cried out,  
“I love you, I love you all I- I promise I don't hate you I- just” 

“shh, don't worry we understand it's okay.” Taemin stroked at his hair “it will be okay I promise”   
Ten's sobs only growing louder small hiccups drifting out of his already wounded throat as he shook in Taeyongs arms the others crowding around him. 

Because eventually, eventually it would be okay even with the pangs of pain in his inflamed vocals it would be okay. Even as he sobbed out tears of anguish the others rubbing his back flinching at the sharp recoils he made with each pained exhale. Because for now they had each other, and they would make sure to get through this together.

**Author's Note:**

> this fic: aka me going unsupervised with the power of comma's and crippling mental health at my side
> 
> I forced myself to write the lyrics ignore the cringe however the description of the music itself was inspired by body by mother mother
> 
> This was mostly a rant fic and mostly based on myself which is why there wasn't any actual cure or conclusion like that shown, but yes Ten gets luv I apologize for making him suffer. 
> 
> any constructive criticism is appreciated and welcome they help me a lot ;)


End file.
